Empathy
by redcherryamber
Summary: Some years after setting the bombs that dropped the Sector Seven plate, Reno is forced to confront what he's done. One-shot. Complete.


I wrote this for two reasons: I've read quite a few fics about Reno getting married, usually to Elena or Cissnei, and although I can't see it happening myself they were good stories. But would Turks tend to marry? Would they risk having children? Veld had a daughter and look what happened to her! I also have issues with the different Renos in the FFVII world. I love them all, but they're so different! Usually I pick which ever type of Reno I need for a story. If Square Enix doesn't make him consistent why should we feel obliged to? ;) But sometimes you have to wonder how would 'good' Reno of Advent Children feel about 'bad' Reno dropping the Sector Seven plate? Would getting married and/or having kids change those feelings? Let's find out...

Warnings - a bit of swearing, reference to death and destruction on an epic scale. Purest angst.

* * *

Empathy

When Reno returned from work he sensed that something was wrong as soon as he opened the door. The house was too quiet and there was an unfamiliar presence that set his senses instantly on alert. Drawing his gun he called, "Elena, baby, I'm home!" There was no reply. Adrenaline surged through Reno's body, but instead of the thrill he used to feel in the old days the sensation made him vaguely nauseous. "Baby? Flora? Daddy's home!" A calm female voice from the sitting room said, "They can't hear you." Reno pushed open the door with his foot and levelled the gun. The woman sitting on his sofa looked up, her face serious but not frightened. She was holding a gun, but did not point it at him. Although years of training had taught him not to judge potential threats by appearance alone, Reno was still taken a back by the woman's ordinariness. She was maybe a few years older than him, of average build with fairly non-descript brown hair cut in a longish bob, and a face that was pretty enough, but showing signs of strain or sorrow. She wore a completely plain grey sweatshirt, jeans and trainers, and was without jewellery or make up of any kind. For a moment he wondered if she was one of the mums from Flora's class at school – except – the gun. She said, "You won't need your gun." Reno didn't lower it. "Where are they?"

"I'm not going to tell you that yet." Reno felt his heart lurch and his skin turn to ice. "Where are they?" he shouted. She looked, if anything, wearied by his outburst. "Not anyplace where yelling is going to help. Sit down. I want to talk to you."

"Tell me what the fuck you've done with my wife and my little girl, or I'm gonna blow your fucking head off."

The woman seemed unfazed. "Then you won't ever find them." She sighed, seeing Reno's helpless anger. "You know, I understand how you feel, I really do," she said, in the same calm tone. "But there's nothing I can do to help you until you put the gun down on the table and sit down." Being completely without options was not something Reno was used to. He hesitated for a moment and the woman said, "I would suggest that you do it _now_." The slight emphasis on the last word convinced him as no amount of shouting or screaming would have done that she was a credible threat. He put the gun down on the table and sat in the armchair. His foot struck something under the coffee table and he swallowed as he saw that it was one of Flora's princess dolls. The woman picked up Reno's gun, detached the clip and put it in her purse, leaving the unloaded weapon on the table. "I'm sorry about this, Reno of the Turks," she said. "But there are some things you need to understand, and this was the only way I could think of to make sure that you did. I mean, people can talk, and talk, can't they – but it doesn't really mean anything, does it? Or, I could've just put a bullet through your brain, but then you'd never understand, so what would be the point?" Reno said, "If you've hurt them…" The woman shook her head. "I've done nothing to you that you haven't done to me. You need to understand that first. It was _you_ who started this. _Your_ actions. Your own free will. When you make choices, you have to live with the consequences."

"What, so this is about a hit? If I killed someone you cared about, it was because they were a traitor to Shin-Ra. I'm sorry, but that's my job. It's not personal."

"Well, I guess you could say that's why I'm here. To make it personal. But it wasn't a murder – 'hit' – whatever you like to call it to make yourself feel better about killing. It wasn't a 'mark', or a 'target' or someone you 'took out'.

"Rufus Shinra doesn't make mistakes. If he says someone's a traitor -"

"_Rufus_ Shinra was nothing but a spoiled brat fresh out of school back then! This has nothing to do with Rufus Shinra – except in-so-far as it might make him think about behaving better than his father did!" The woman took a breath to calm herself. Reno felt his heartbeat quickening. "So you're talking about the old President?"

"I'm talking about the Turk who set the bomb that brought the Sector Seven plate crashing down on my family, and the President Shinra who gave the order for that to happen. I'm talking about you, Reno, and your responsibility. You see, I've been watching you for quite a while now, and I just can't understand how you can do all the things you do day after day, just as if you were a normal person, and not the monster I know you must be. I need to understand. All I can think is, maybe you have something missing in your brain – or maybe you just haven't got the – the _empathy_ – to understand what it is that you've done – because otherwise how could you get up, and go to work, and sleep with your wife, and take your little girl to the park, and not just be driven out of your mind with the guilt of knowing what you've done? I mean – if I had that on my conscience … Well. Actually, the idea of killing myself was why I bought the gun and learned to use it in the first place. But then I started thinking, that's just adding to the list of victims. And maybe, if I could make you see…Maybe that would be something." Reno's face was white. He said shakily, "I…I am sorry. I do think about it all the time. At the time, it was just another order. I didn't…think…at all, until afterwards. But please – that was me, not Elena. Not Flora. They're innocent."

"Elena is a Turk. And, yes, you're right, Flora is innocent. How could she not be – she's a five year old. But my youngest was five too, and being innocent didn't help her, did it?" Reno had no idea what to say. The woman shook her head. "I'm so sick of people saying they're sorry. Rufus Shinra's good at that, isn't he? I've seen every broadcast he's made – how sorry Shin-Ra is for what happened, how sorry he is, personally, and how he's going to make amends. But no mention of Sector Seven – because officially, that was Avalanche wasn't it? And I'm thinking, he's not _that_ sorry, in his nice penthouse, with his cars and his helicopters and his security. He's not sorry enough to help the ordinary people he thought he could rule through fear. He's not even sorry enough to cry, so I hear. And you – you say you're sorry too, but I can't see it. You have this nice life, in this nice neighbourhood – and yes, I know you had it rough growing up, but surely that should've made you think twice before you brought down the plate on your own people?"

"I swear – I'll do whatever you want. Just don't hurt them…"

"You need to shut up now, and just listen. I'm really, really tired of people telling me how I should be feeling, and how I should be moving on, and how time is a healer, and all that crap. Because, believe me, it isn't. And maybe you need to find that out too."

"What do you mean? You're not going to –"

"I _said_ be quiet. I want to tell you how it was, that day, eight years ago. I want you to see if you can imagine…" She glanced around the room. "Of course, our house wasn't a nice big one like this. But I guess all the essentials were the same. Sometimes it gets hard to remember because – well – it's all under rubble now, isn't it?" She ran one hand over the arm of the black leather sofa. "This is nice. I guess you, or your wife, went to the store one day, or looked in a catalogue, and picked this out? Just like normal people." She paused. Reno was frantic with worry, but he was afraid to antagonize her. What if she had associates? What if they were holding Elena and Flora somewhere, and one phone call would kill or release them, depending on what he did? He didn't want to think about other possibilities. The woman smiled. "We had a little apartment. Wasn't much, but it was home, as they say. No garden. I don't suppose you visited Sector Seven often?" Reno cleared his throat. "Yeah, sometimes."

"Not your part of town though."

"I…was born in Sector Five."

"Oh yes. I was forgetting. All that stuff in your files…"

"You've seen my files?"

"Yes. I told you, I've been watching you." So she wasn't working alone. Could this be an inside job? How else could she have seen his confidential files? Reno's mind was racing, but he had to be still. The woman continued, "You have so much space here. I've seen Flora, playing in the garden. You play with her like a normal father – I've seen you pushing her on that swing. My two used to play on the street, or in the park. We lived near the park – just under the edge of the plate. That evening was totally ordinary. My eldest, Kasey, she was still awake, and drawing a picture – half doing that, and half watching the TV. My husband had just gotten in from work. My little Laura was already asleep. I went to the door to let the cat in, and that saved my life they said – because of the doorframe. I heard this noise – like thunder – and I heard a helicopter – and then everything started shaking and I thought it was an earthquake, and the whole building just – collapsed…I woke up in hospital. They told me some Shin-Ra aid workers had pulled me out of the rubble. Two people in that building survived – me, and an old woman from upstairs who'd been in the stairwell putting out the trash. The buildings further in – there was nothing left. My daughters' friends. My neighbours. My sister in law." Reno whispered, "I'm sorry." The woman laughed – the bleakest sound he'd ever heard. "And the Turk is sorry. You're not – not yet. But you will be." She looked down at the gun in her hands. "I brought this to show you." She had been holding something beneath the gun. A yellowing piece of paper. She unfolded it, and pushed it gently across the table to him. Reno took it. It was a child's drawing – a smiling princess with long curling hair and a triangular dress, standing beside some kind of animal – possibly a horse. And a dark stain that must be blood. "They found that in the ruins, when they dug out Kasey's body," the woman said. "It's the picture she was drawing. Does your Flora like to draw, Reno?" Reno swallowed, and nodded. He managed to say, "Please, don't –" but his voice caught. The woman's eyes were pitiless. She said, "Now, perhaps, you're beginning to see." She held out her hand for the picture, folded it carefully, and put it into her purse. "At first," she said, "I believed all the lies. I thought Shin-Ra helped the people of Sector Seven. Their aid workers pulled people out, cleaned up, helped to re-build. I blamed Avalanche, just like they wanted me to. But almost from the start there were rumours. I began to get involved with local survivors' support groups, and a woman I met there introduced me to a man who was ex-Avalanche. He said that the person responsible for blowing the plate support pillar was a Turk called Reno, and that he was following orders directly from President Shinra. It took me years to work out what to do, and to achieve it. I got a job for a cleaning company contracted to the new Shin-Ra building in Edge. That's how I got your files. No-one takes any notice of cleaners, and they always have an excuse to be in a room. I found out that Avalanche's claims about you were true, and I found out where you lived. I started watching you because I wanted to find out what sort of man could do such a terrible thing. But you seemed so – normal! You looked like a boy from the slums – your hair, the tattoos: I grew up with boys like you in my classes at school. Your pretty wife – your lovely daughter…You seemed such a normal family. Just like we used to be. And it just seemed so wrong, that your daughter was happy, and alive and out there in the sunshine…when mine…So I practiced with the gun, and I watched the house, and I waited. And then, today, I decided to come here, and make you understand."

"What did you do? Where are they? Please tell me. You're right – I didn't understand – not then. But I have thought about it so much since – after Flora was born. You can do what you like to me – but please, not Elena – not Flora. She's just a little girl!"

"Like mine were."

"I know! I know! But – what can I do? There's nothing I can do – no forgiveness for something like this. Kill me – but not them, please. Kill me – that should be enough revenge."

"This is not about revenge! Revenge is useless. I want you to _feel_ – so that something has been changed! I'm not going to kill _you_, Reno of the Turks, because then Rufus Shinra would just employ some other thoughtless, cocky street-kid who thought it was cool to wear the uniform, and do top-secret assignments, and kill people like some kind of twisted game. You have to be alive so that the next time he tries to send you on some mission where innocent people are going to be killed, you can tell him no. Because you will understand – first hand – what it means to lose people you love. Then maybe you can make him see the consequences of his orders, and maybe that will save your soul, and mine."

"What have you done with them?" cried Reno, beginning to feel sick and dizzy and certain of the inevitable approach of a truth he would never be able to face. He grabbed her hands across the table, tears spilling from his eyes. "Please don't say it's too late! PLEASE!" The look on the woman's face was terrible in its sad resignation. She removed his hands from hers and stood up, picking up her purse. She still held her gun. Looking at his desperate face she said, "It's eight years too late."

Reno sobbed. The woman said quietly, "They're upstairs." Reno ran for the stairs, but when he reached the landing he hesitated. The doors to the bedrooms were closed. Downstairs he heard the front door click shut. He couldn't make himself move. As long as he didn't look, he wouldn't have to face what he'd done to his wife and his baby girl. The house was silent. Reno put out his hand and pushed open the door of his bedroom. Both of them were on the bed, Elena with one arm flung out, her body twisted at an awkward angle, and Flora curled next to her, looking as though she'd just fallen asleep. Reno's vision was blurred by tears, but he couldn't see any blood. Then he noticed the two thin syringes on the bedside table. He knelt beside the bed and took Elena's hand and kissed it. It was warm. Reno's head jerked up. He leapt to his feet, and put his mouth against Elena's lips. She was breathing! His heart beating so hard he thought he would break apart, he touched Flora's delicate neck. There was a pulse. He grabbed the phone from the bedside table and called for help, his chest so tight he could hardly breath. They're alive! Oh thank Gaia! Alive!

The Shin-Ra helicopter landed in the front garden in a matter of minutes and then the medics were in the house, and two cars were outside. Tseng and Rude reached the door at the same moment, gave each other a silent look of mutual approval and respect, and entered Reno's house, Rude stepping back to give the director precedence. They waited in the hall as the medics worked upstairs. Reno appeared, looking pale and shaken. He said, "They're both going to be fine. It was only a sedative. Only a sedative." Rude went to the cabinet, poured Reno a whisky, and handed it to his partner without a word. Reno nodded his thanks and knocked it back. Tseng said, "When you're ready we'll need a description of the assailant – any details you can remember. Don't worry Reno – he won't get far." Reno shook his head. "_She_. She won't try to. I…don't want this taking any further."

"Reno – this person got into your house – attacked your family. Forensics will be here soon. She was careless – left the syringes – prints everywhere…"

"She wasn't trying to hide her identity. She told me her children's names. She just wanted me to understand." Tseng frowned. "Shin-Ra can't let this rest. Anyone who puts our people in danger makes themselves a target."

"No, Tseng. Not this time."

Rude's attention had been caught by something on the coffee table. "Hey, Reno," he said, "Do you know about that?" Rude indicated a small white envelope. Neat writing on the front said, "Reno of the Turks". "Leave it for forensics," warned Tseng, but Reno ignored him. Inside was a single sheet of paper – a photocopy of two photographs arranged side by side – two little girls with dark hair. The younger of the two was smiling brightly, her hair tumbling around her oval face in ringlets. The older was looking at the camera a little shyly, her pretty features serious. She was holding some kind of soft toy. Above the photographs their mother had written, "Laura and Kasey. Keep their pictures. Don't ever forget how it feels." And Reno of the Turks sank down onto his expensive leather sofa, hid his face in his hands, and wept.

* * *

Like I said - angst! Thanks for reading.


End file.
